A Review of My Most Recent Visit to McDonald’s

I walked into the “restaurant“ and nobody was near the main counter, on the civilian side or the worker side. So, I stood and waited. And just as an employee approached the cash register, a holler-dwelling couple shuffled in and started to tell her what they wanted.

“Excuse me?! I was here first!” I should’ve shouted, but didn’t. You’ve got to pick your battles, and this one didn’t seem to rise to an actionable level. But that didn’t stop me from silently steaming about it…

The man appeared to have been digging ditches since November of 1983, and had a head the size of a softball. All his features were bunched together into one small area of his face, despite the shocking smallness of his overall head. And his wife (or whatever) looked like the Liberty Bell with a faded Garth Brooks t-shirt stretched over the top. I noticed she had no chin whatsoever; it was just neck, then mouth.

They had an unruly little girl, with one eye that seemed to roll around in its socket: an absolute free-agent, attached to nothing. She wandered through the place, bothering people and making strange noises with impunity.

The man began ordering, and acted like he’d never been in public before. He asked an endless string of stupid questions, and seemed to believe this was his own personal fast food restaurant.

“And can I get one of those, what are they called, Cokes? Are those any good? Have you ever tried one? Cokes? I knew this old boy, one of my ditch brothers in Tallahassee… or was it Houston? No, it was Tallahassee! He tried a Coke once, and couldn’t stop talking about it…”

I thought my brain might fly apart.

Finally, another employee opened a second cash register, and a seasoned citizen made a move for it. “Not a second time!” I either yelled or thought loudly, and nearly body-checked gramps into the McCafe.

For a brief second I felt kind of bad about my aggressiveness, but noticed the old goat had a white ponytail down his back. So, screw him. His hairstyle caused me to instantly reassess my feelings on the subject.

I was buying lunch for me and our oldest son, who is home sick today. And I started…

“Yes, I’d like a ten piece Chicken McNugget, and-”

“The meal or just the nuggets?”

“Just the nuggets. And I’d-”

“Dipping sauce?”

“What? Oh yeah, barbecue I guess. And I’d like-”

“Two or three?”

Goddamn! I couldn’t finish a freakin’ sentence. The woman kept peppering me with questions. And I was just trying to order lunch, not apply for a mortgage.

Finally, I was allowed to get it all out, and moved aside. And ol’ Noam Chomsky Mother Jones Rules for Radicals filled the void I’d created in front of the order-taker.

“Senior coffee!” he demanded, hatefully. “And a couple of those cookies. Chocolate chip! I get a discount on those too, right?”

The woman said yes, he begrudgingly paid, and snatched the receipt from her hand. Then he stood there studying the thing, on high-alert for evidence of the right-wing plot to cheat him out of his twelve cent discount.

After ponytail was finished being a complete asshole, I realized the ditch digger and Belle were STILL placing their order. Man, if they hadn’t opened a second register I would’ve either been long-gone by now, or paralyzed by a stroke.

I stood and waited while somebody stacked-up my pillar of fat, and a guy stinking of management eventually handed me a bag with the top rolled down. “Here ya go,” he said, and walked away. Wow! How friendly.

Then a man with his tie tucked inside his dress shirt, and hollering into a cell phone, almost knocked me down as I attempted to exit the joint. He had one of those “going places” purposeful walks, and a pair of douchey shades.

“This is like some sort of asshole jamboree!” I shouted in exasperation, once I was finally free of the place. And two middle-aged women overheard, and laughed.

But the food turned out to be pretty good — the pillar was masterfully constructed — and I’m giving the overall experience a C+, up from my original grade of C-.

Comments

Use your check card at the drive-thu one time. You’ll never do it any other way again. Hand card over, they hand it back….done. Less chance of dropping change, then fucking with bills to get them in your wallet, then putting the change somewhere…etc, etc. Actual legal tender is over, soooooo over.

Last time I used the McDrive-thru, I drove my McCrown Victoria to the McSpeaker and ordered two McDoubles and a McCoffee. I got two McCheeseburgers and a McCoke. I took it inside and McImmediately barrelled to the front of the McLine to explain my McSituation. Once I was greeted with “Hola!”, I sort of figured what I was in for. They replaced my McCheeseburgers and a McCoke with two McCheeseburgers and a McCoke. I know I should have looked before I left, but went to my car and opened the bag. They probably gave me the same McBag. I took it inside and McImmediately barrelled to the front of the McLine to explain my McSituation. This time I checked and got one McDouble and a large McCoke. I asked if anyone there could speak English and got the oldest most wrinkled McDonald’s employee EVER! She told me that she would give me ten dollars worth of McGift Certificates to just go away. I took that offer and never went back. Sold the McCertificates to a co-worker for eight dollars (sort of like selling food stamps). I only go to Sonic now. Sure, people get shot there all of the time, since it’s in the ‘hood, but it’s worth it to me.

I remember in 7th grade when the resort town of Dunbar got their first McDonalds. You would think they opened the Ritz or something.

I never go in the restaurant, I even make my kids hold it or potty off the side of the car(they are boys, and I find an abondoned road first). jeez people. Drive Thru that way you only deal with one fucktard, maybe two and on a special day waiting to get a coke to take your zanex sometimes I get behind a douche who has never orderd mcdonalds and has questions…I mean for real?? I can understand if you car has foreign plates, but americans come on. Figure it the fuck out already.

Debit card…slap it to the lady, she slaps it back. Not even sure money is in the account, but MCDS will find the funds, don’t you worry. I always check my bag before I leave. Piss everyone off, but once I left after ordering a breakfast burrito combo(good for the heart) and got home and had the goodie bag for someones Big Breakfast, you know syrup, butter jelly and a knife. Awesome. Then I go in, and bitch. hahahaha

I worked at Mickey D’s during my high school days just long enough to make the money I needed to go to the shore for vacation. The manager was a disgusting poon-hound that harassed every girl there. He looked like a cross between Capt. Spock (same hair cut) and Cornelius from Planet of the Apes, a little “long in the tooth” too. Hee Haw. Seemed to fancy himself as quite the ladies man. Vile. He’d follow girls to the freezer or back room hoping to cop a feel. Wotta douch. Luckily I made the money I needed in about a month and I was outta there.

I know they’re pure fat and grease, but the Big Mac is fucking McYummy and the best cure for a hangover! Pickles and all.

I’ve actually heard of the so called “coke” thing. It was accidently added to my Jack Daniels last weekend. Delish.

I can’t do them. Jeff, as you so often do, just articulated every reason why I don’t go. Once while standing in line I said “DIE!” out loud in one of those tourett syndrome moments that happen to me from time to time. I just lose my shit in those places so, since I have no self control, I choose to just not go.

1st i’m afraid of clowns. more specificly clown rape. i do not want that to happen to me and i think that those big red shoes are made for raping me. i swear that there’s a raperoom in every mcdonalds and there’s a clown, paid by corporate, who lives in there and randomly abducts people for clownrape.

the reason this isn’t made public is because of the shame/horror of clownrape.

2nd i just can’t stomach the food. i’m pretty damned adventerous w/ food too. i’ve eaten deepfried softshell crabs off of a cart in chinatown and not gotten sick, but every damned time i eat mcdonalds i get sick.

i went 14 years without eating it and then i had some a year ago, finnished it off and puked it up on my way home.

If I think long and hard enough, I might remember what is was like to be 30. I seem to recall something about no age spots, no crow’s feet, wrinkles, no ass saggage, thick-mutha hair, and a certain overall perkiness I’d give my molars to have back.

Several of my fellow hoodlums at work kept insisting that Burger King has the best tasting burgers. After weeks of being harangued, I decided to take them up on their challenge; plus, I also had a coupon.

I must say, the Whopper definitely beats the Big Mac hands down as far as sheer flavor goes, and it is even arguably better tasting than Wendy’s Double Classic. Superwife Barb actually agreed with me – now *that* is truly remarkable. I mean, who knew?

Today’s quote: “The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don’t do anything about it.” (Albert Einstein)